


A Good Provider

by 74days



Series: Meet-Cute AU's [21]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - No Powers, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute, No Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2756942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/74days/pseuds/74days
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is an alpha with no hope of ever having an opportunity to court an Omega. Or maybe he's just been looking for the wrong type of Omega!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Provider

Bucky Barnes was an Alpha. He remembered his mom had been so disappointed when he’d presented, because he’d been such a **_pretty_** little boy, with his full lips and dark eyes – and she’d already given birth to two Betas. What she needed was an Omega to raise their standing, maybe get them out of the massive amount of debt Bucky’s father had left them in when he died. The dowry an Alpha would pay to bond with an Omega would go a long way to helping them escape the black hole he’d left them in.

But no such luck, Bucky presented as an Alpha with his first rut at the age of 12, and that was that.

He’d grown up knowing that there was little chance he’d ever bond with an Omega. His job paid well, but not **_that_** well, and every time he managed to get a little saved up, something would go wrong. No Omega would even look at him as a potential mate without any collateral behind him – how else could he support his mate or their children if he could hardly afford to keep his credit card debt cleared?

He wasn’t the only Alpha in the building, three floors down there was another, and Bucky could smell the stench of a competing male as soon as he stepped foot into the stairwell, wafting up the floors. Logically he knew the other Alpha could probably scent him too – that even three whole floors of scent neutral Betas wasn’t about to mask them both – but biologically he wanted to rip his fucking throat out for even being in the same **_street_** as Bucky. It also didn’t help that the other Alpha wasn’t even bothering to keep his scent contained.

All apartments had built in scent barriers at the doors and the windows. Safety first, of course, to keep rutting Alphas from killing one another, to protect the rare Omegas through their heats. Each apartment was sound proof and scent proof and if it wasn’t your landlord would be called up on code. The fact that Bucky could still scent the other Alpha just meant that he was a fucking **_asshole_**.

So when Bucky went to work he held his breath and tried not to breathe when he passed the floor where it was so thick he felt like it was trying to strangle him, and on the way home he did the same, stripping off as soon as he got home and washing his clothes in the strongest scent bleach he could find.

* * *

 

There was a building opposite Bucky’s – too far to touch, but close enough that it blocked out any natural light to Bucky’s apartment. Most people had blocked off the windows with light boxes, to fake the morning light – but Bucky liked to be able to open his when he wasn’t rutting, let the air inside – breathe for the first time in days.

His kitchen window looked over the alley and when he sat at his Formica table eating his breakfast of toast and coffee, he could see into the kitchen of the apartment opposite him. Normally where the cute Beta who lived there was sitting, eating **_his_** breakfast.

When Bucky had first bought his apartment, the unit had been empty, but after almost a year of darkness, the smaller man had moved in. It had been a flurry of activity at first, the cleaners who made sure no smell from the previous owner lingered (even a Beta could get fiercely territorial at home) and then the moving people in their white coveralls, ensuring that the goods they touched wouldn’t get accidently scented. Bucky had watched from his window, interested and curious – because if he was being perfectly honest, he was probably the most boring person on the planet and even someone moving in across the way was exciting for him.

Finally, the little guy had shown up, tipping the movers and simply walking from room to room as he settled himself.

That had been a full year ago, and Bucky liked to think they were friends, of sorts. Every morning Bucky would eat his breakfast at the same time as the little beta, sometimes even reading the same newspaper, and every morning they would smile at each other as they washed their dirty plates in the sink.

At night sometimes too – they’d end up eating their dinners at the same times, although the Beta seemed to eat much better than Bucky ever did, his microwaved meals not quite holding up to the home cooked dinners on the plate of the much smaller man.

For a whole year, they silently lived their lives in a weird synchronisation – except for the week every three months when Bucky had to bolt down the windows and doors and work through his rut, separated from the world until his biology righted itself again. After the week, he’d slowly take a day or two to get back into his daily routine – opening the shutters and trying to catch up with work so he wasn’t quite so far behind when he was able to go back. The rut suppressants didn’t work on about 75% of the Alpha population and they cost an absolute **_fortune_** – Bucky had needed to stop taking them when his health insurance refused to pay out.

When he opened his shutters, the little Beta would look over and smile, and Bucky gave an exhausted wave back – and that was the complete extent of their interactions.

-

Bucky’s rut was due in a few days, he already knew it was coming up as his boss – another Alpha – had already started posturing, a sure sign that Bucky was sending out hormones like a damn sewage pipe, when he was completely floored by a scent he should not have been able to pick up. A scent that had absolutely no place in a neighbourhood like Bucky’s.

An Omega.

An Omega in **_heat_**.

* * *

 

He ran home. He had no other option. He was a fully grown Alpha who had ‘voluntarily’ stopped taking rut suppressants and if he caught an Omega in heat he’d have the full force of the law thrown on his head. The laws protecting Omegas were firm and absolute – and Bucky would be **_lucky_** if he only got life imprisonment. Because he’d stopped taking suppressants, it was more likely that people would think he was deliberately putting himself through a rut to catch an unmated Omega – and the punishment for that was **_death_**.

But the closer he got to his apartment building, the stronger the scent got – and Bucky was shivering with pre-rut hormones, hands shaking dangerously as he shouldered through the communal doors. He was dimly aware of people talking, Betas running out of the building as he pushed his way up the stairwell. The redheaded woman who lived next door tried to grab his arm and pull him back down, hissing that he was going to get himself killed, but he felt the growl rip from his throat and she let him go like he’d been burned. “He’s twice your size.” She hissed, but was pulled away, down the stairwell and out on to the street. He knew, dimly, in the back of his mind, that the police would show up soon and he really, really needed to get his ass into his apartment and lock the fucking doors before he did something he regretted.

The closer he got to the Alpha who lived between Bucky’s apartment and the street, the stronger the Omega scent was. He could scent the Omega easily, pre-heat hormones filling up all the parts of his head that should be focused on higher functions, leaving him heaving deep breaths and a steady growl from the back of his throat.

He couldn’t scent the Alpha though, which meant that he wasn’t rutting. So why was a pre-heat Omega around? Surely if the Alpha had managed to get himself a bond with an Omega he’d had taken the time to sync up their cycles – surely he’d move out of the shitty apartment block he shared with another Alpha?

These things were jarring on his mind, stopping him from completely reverting to his base instinct of ‘fight or fuck’ as he struggled up the stairwell.

“I already told you,” A voice said, strong, steady. “That I’m not going to bond you.”

“Listen,” The Alpha growled, trying to use his more dominating voice but failing – he wasn’t in a rut, he didn’t have the hormonal advantage – “You’re gonna need a big strong Alpha to help you out.”

Bucky tried to breath, tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, blocking out the conversation. Pre-rut, he **_knew_** he was dangerous. Knew that he’d fight before he could think, he just needed to keep walking…

The Omega scoffed. “I wouldn’t pick you if you were the last Alpha on the **_planet_**.”

Bucky was almost at the landing where they were talking. All he had to do was get himself up another three flights of stairs and not attempt to rape an unwilling Omega he’d be set. He just needed to keep moving.

The scent was over-powering now, sending Bucky faster into his own rut, hormones building up faster and faster in his system at the response of an Omega ready to be mated.

“You don’t really have much of a fucking **_choice_**.” The Alpha growled, and Bucky felt his own voice reply – a growl so deep he hardly could believe he was the one who made it. A challenge.

He’d reached the top of the stairs – still three floors short of his own apartment – and saw for the first time the Alpha and Omega that had been arguing.

Dimly he was aware of a few things – the Alpha was bigger than him, more muscular, with short dark hair peppered with grey, and a day of stubble that may or may not have been intentional. His t-shirt was stretched tight over his chest, with the three headed logo of Hydra – an Alpha only fighting circuit.

But that wasn’t what caught his attention.

The Omega.

The Omega was…  he was… he was the Beta who lived across the alley. Small and blond and so familiar to Bucky that he felt his heckles rise instantly at how close the other Alpha was. Dimly he was aware of talking.

“You’d better back up right now.” The Omega was saying, but Bucky was stalking forward, slowly, fluidly. “Because he’s in a rut and it won’t matter how good your gym is, he’ll rip off your arms.”

“Who the fuck is this?” The Alpha said, before taking another step towards Bucky’s Omega, grabbing him roughly by the arm and trying to haul the smaller man into his apartment.

“Get your hands off me!” The Omega yelped, and Bucky felt a feral roar rip out him, launching himself at the Alpha who had dared to touch what was his.

* * *

 

The fight was short and brutal. The other Alpha had a weight and height advantage but Bucky was running on hundreds of years of natural selection and pure adrenaline. Dimly he knew that he did not want to kill the other man, he wasn’t a killer, but his over-riding desire was to protect what was his. His mate. His mate in **_heat_**. When the other man was on the ground, Bucky seemed unable to stop his fists from hammering blows onto his face and chest – he knew, he just knew, that he was going to kill the man.

Then suddenly, a hand touched his shoulder.

Almost instantly, his attention shifted from the Alpha unmoving under him, to the Omega touching his shoulder. “You’ve got to stop now.” The Omega said, and Bucky nodded mutely, because he would always do what his mate wanted. “Thank you for protecting me.”

“Mine.”

“No.” The Omega said, shaking his head, but not moving his hand from Bucky’s shoulder. “Not yours. Not his either.” Bucky could see the flush of heat over the Omegas pale skin, felt his own body shake with desires he could not control. “What’s your name?”

“Bucky.” He managed, desperately trying to focus on anything other than the man in front of him.

Under his body, the other Alpha groaned, and Bucky felt another growl pulled from his chest. “Hey, Bucky.” The Omega said, tugging a little on his shoulder, an attempt to get him on his feet and off the man under his knees. “I’m Steve.”

“Mine.”

“No.” The Omega, Steve, said, but carefully stepped over the prone Alpha on the landing. “Bucky, why don’t you go upstairs to your apartment?” He asked, and yes – that was what Bucky wanted to do. He could remember that he’d wanted to get to his apartment.

Pulling the Omega close and dipping his head into the crook of his neck where he knew the scent would be stronger, he took a long, deep breath and shuddered. He had to get back to his apartment, he had to get his Omega somewhere safe, away from this other Alpha – those were the things that Bucky had to do.

“You gonna let me go?” Steve asked, passive in Bucky’s iron hold. That was the very last thing that Bucky wanted to do, and he shook his head minutely, still not moving from where he had his face pressed against the Omegas skin. The said that every Omega smelled differently, a natural biology that helped warring Alphas pick them out of a crowd if needed – but Bucky had never in the whole of his life scented an Omega, so he couldn’t tell if the spicy apple and wood shavings scent was Steves particular smell or if that was just what they all were like. He liked to think that it was all Steve though, as he tried to get closer, wrapping himself in the warmth of the smaller man. “You’re gonna have to let me go, at some point.” Steve was saying, but his hand was gently carding through Bucky’s hair, and Bucky was starting to come down from his high at the gentle petting.

“Don’t wanna.” He managed, nipping lightly at the skin over the Omegas jugular.

“Well, you’ll have to.” Steve was saying, although Bucky was pretty sure he was arching closer to Bucky, plastering himself against his chest. “My heat is coming.”

“I can tell.” Bucky said, starting to feel a little more like himself again. The nature of the rut meant that he’d fade in and out of the worst of it, enough to eat and wash and keep himself (and his mate, if he had one) from getting sick through the cycle.

Steve playfully slapped him across the back of the head, letting out a snort of laughter. “Yeah, well, screw you too.” He said, as Bucky slowly started to untangle himself from the smaller man. Every urge in his body was screaming at him to get closer, but he knew that he had to extract himself before the next wave hit.

“Sorry for… um…” He said, pulling back and putting a little space between their bodies. His fists were bloody, on the ground, the other Alpha was prone, but breathing, and Bucky felt sick looking at his face – bloody and misshapen.

“Don’t be.” The Omega said, shrugging. “He hauled me up here, thought he could convince me to bond with him, wouldn’t listen when I said no.” He shuddered, and Bucky wasn’t sure if it was another wave of heat hormones or not. Omegas tended to keep their cool through their heats – unlike Alphas – and were still in control of most of their higher functions if they wanted. Some didn’t – losing themselves in the needs and desires that their Alpha could provide. “You probably saved his life, you know, if he’d forced me.”

“Hmm.” Bucky agreed. “Although you should probably go.” He managed. “Soon. I’m… not going to be able to keep a lid on this much longer.”

Steve looked like he was going to say something, but he was interrupted by a scent bomb going off a foot or so where they were standing. The scent bombs that were used exclusively by police to control rutting Alphas – a mixture of aniseed and asafoetida oil – were so pungent that they could easily confuse and disorientate Alphas even in the middle of a rut.

Bucky reared back and away from the stink, tripping over the other Alpha who had been throw back into consciousness by the scent, as the police in full riot gear flooded into the landing.

* * *

 

The other Alpha was called Brock. Bucky found that out when they booked them both in downtown. Bucky had spent his entire life without being thrown in a cell, and as he started to sweat through his rut, he fervently prayed that he would never have to go through it again.

They’d shot him up with suppressants, but he could tell that the drugs weren’t taking – which was all too common – before they’d thrown him into a solitary cell. Brock was taken to hospital for his injuries – and Bucky knew he wasn’t getting out of trouble for this. He’d scented an un-bonded Omega against his will, he’d fought another Alpha while in a rut, the police had taken him into custody.

He was lucky if he’d get a fine he’d never be able to pay – more than likely they’d look at his savings (depleted because he’d had to pay to get his bathroom re-tiled the month before) and they’d just throw him in prison for a few months. He’d lose his job. He’d lose **_everything_**.

He lay down on the floor of his cell and tried not to panic – his emotions and hormones were all over the place, and his clothes still reeked of scent bomb. “You look like hell,” Someone said, and Bucky cracked open his eyes to look at the Beta on the other side of the plexiglass. He was pretty sure he managed a nod at the police officer, who grinned back at him. “Officer Sam Wilson.” He said, waving. The glass was better than bars – which would let the scents of the entire station waft around. “And it’s your lucky day, my friend.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.” Bucky managed, as he tried desperately hard not to breathe the smell clinging to his clothing.

The other man laughed though, and gave him a commiserating grimace. “We’re getting some clothes for you to change into now. Steve’s already sent a message over – he wanted to come down to the station himself, crazy fucker.”

“Steve?” Bucky asked, then panicked. “Steve can’t come here!” He said, scrambling to his feet. “He’s going into heat!”

The man on the other side of the glass laughed and nodded. “That’s what we told him.” He said, shaking his head. “Not that he paid us a lot of attention. Wanted us to know that you stepped in and stopped that other Alpha from getting him alone – probably worse.” He grinned at Bucky. “Something about you being a hero and not a criminal. Went down well with the boss, and you know – a good word from an Omega can go a **_long_** way. You’re going home. Under guard, of course.”

“Of course.” Bucky said weakly.

* * *

 

A week and a half later, Bucky finally worked through the last of his rut – hauling himself into a shower and washing the sweat and spunk off his exhausted body. The fact that he’d run into an Omega before the rut made it worse, and he never, ever wanted to go through that again.

The other Alpha (Brock Rumlow, he’d been advised) had been moved out of the building – Steve was pressing all kinds of charges against him – attempted kidnapping, coercion of an Omega in heat, and most unbelievably: challenging a rutting Alpha. Although that was one of the lesser charges, Bucky was kind of floored that Steve would even bother.

When he opened up his blacked out windows though – Steve’s apartment had been blacked out too. It took him a few moments of blind panic before he remembered that the smaller man had been pre-heat when Bucky had fought Brock – it was more than likely that he was still going through the biological equivalent of a nuclear bomb. He stared at the blacked out windows for longer than he should have before calling his boss and letting him know that he’d be back into work the next day.

* * *

 

When he got back to his apartment after work the next day (where everyone seemed to know that Bucky had ‘saved’ an Omega from being harmed) he found a small blond man standing in the corridor, looking slightly unsure of where to go.

Steve still had that lingering heat scent, nowhere near as strong as it had been, but certainly noticeable – he should not have been outside of his own apartment.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bucky snapped, panic rising in his throat. Although Brock had been kicked out of the building leaving Bucky the only Alpha in residence, it still wasn’t safe for Steve to be out unprotected. “Are you **_looking_** for trouble?”

Steve turned to face him, exhaustion written across his face, pale and drawn – nothing like the vibrant man Bucky had seen only a few days ago. “I’m not… I’m… just…” He said, and Bucky saw that his legs were starting to buckle under him.

“Aww fuck!” He whined, diving forward to stop the Omega landing on his on the landing. Taking him into his own apartment was such a bad idea – but Bucky had no other option – and he unlocked the door, helping the smaller man inside.

* * *

 

Almost as soon as Bucky got Steve’s ass on the couch, he fell asleep. Bucky was aware that his home smelt like a fucking sex den after his rut, and he couldn’t remember if he’d taken the time to wash the damn couch cushions down the day before. Steve didn’t seem to mind, snuggling deeper into the couch and snoring softly, gentle waves of Omega scent filling the air, mixing with Bucky’s.

It wasn’t half as bad.

* * *

 

He was trying to make something to eat that wasn’t a damn microwaved meal – he’d left Steve sleeping to go to the store and for the first time in forever, the girl at the till smiled at him, giving him a ‘mated’ discount. Obviously the post-rut hormones hadn’t quite faded, and now he was probably stinking of post-heat Omega where he’d carried Steve.

He stuck with something simple, a spaghetti bolognaise, when Steve’s presence was announced by a waft of scent. “So… Hi again.” The smaller man said, running his fingers through his blond hair. “I um… sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.” Bucky said, breathing through his mouth. Rut or not, Steve still smelt good enough to eat – and Bucky wasn’t going to push his luck. “But, um, you might wanna shower before you leave. Sorry about the smell.”

Steve blushed hard and looked away, and it took Bucky a few moments to realise… “No, I mean, **_my_** smell! You smell fine. **_Great_**. I mean me – because of the Rut, **_you_** smell good!” He rushed, aware that he was probably blushing harder than he’d ever done in his life. “I just… um… yeah. You probably sink of rut, I’m sorry.”

Steve picked at his shirt, oversized and warm looking, and sniffed it delicately. “I think it smells fine.” He said, and smiled.

Jesus, Bucky was so fucked. “Are you making dinner?” Steve asked, stepping closer. “I’ll get out of your hair, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come over here. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You don’t have to eat it!” Bucky hurried. “I mean, if you don’t like it I’ve got some frozen mac and cheese. I just thought cause you always seem to eat homemade stuff that you might prefer… um…” He trailed off, as Steve stared at him with those big blue eyes. “Not that I... I just see you sometimes... eating.” Shit. Now he looked like a fucking **_stalker_**.

“You’re making **_me_** dinner?”

“Uh…” Bucky said, looking at the pot with more than he could ever hope to eat bubbling away. “Yeah?”

Bucky was pretty sure he’d seen Steve smile a few times, but he was struck by the fact that he’d never see Steve really smile. He looked at Bucky like he was the only thing worth seeing, like a light was burning under his skin as he beamed at Bucky.

“Oh, okay.” He smiled. “Should I set the table?”

* * *

 

Bucky thought they’d eat in silence. Awkward, terrible silence. Turned out he was wrong. Steve liked to talk. He liked to use his hands when he talked too – and Bucky found himself laughing and sharing some of his own stories – telling Steve about his two older sisters who’d tease him relentlessly (and still did, when they got together) and found out fthat Steve was an only child, which was quite uncommon. Most couples would try for another baby if the first was Omega, as there was a high chance you’d get another.

“My mom really loved my dad, you know, but she wasn’t allowed to marry him cause he was a beta and he didn’t have the standing her parents wanted.” Steve explained. “So she married him anyway and moved out here. They both died a few years back.” He smiled softly. “I wanted to keep her ideals alive, you know? It’s not... being an Omega, it’s not some golden ticket, it doesn’t make you **_better_** than anyone else.”

“Lots of people disagree.” Bucky pointed out. He was one of them – he was pretty sure Steve Rogers was the best of them all.

“Lots of people don’t think an Alpha in a rut would be able to stop from chasing an Omega in heat.” Steve pointed out, giving Bucky what could only be described as a look. “Lots of people would think that an Omega would need things like money and privilege to be happy.” He carried on. “Maybe what an Omega really needs is a home cooked meal and someone to talk to.”

“I think,” Bucky laughed. “That an Omega would need a bit better than some spag bol and a chat.”

“You’d be wrong.” Steve said, leaning back in the chair, legs stretching out under the table, knocking their feet together.

 ** _Oh_**.

* * *

 

They took it slow. So slow, in fact, that Steve would sometimes complain that they technically weren’t taking it anywhere at all.

Bucky soon found out that all the articles and advice columns and whole entire books dedicated to ‘wooing an Omega’ had obviously never had to try to date Steve Rogers.

“I don’t see why I can’t come over.” He whined down the phone as Bucky blacked out his windows. He was pouting, and Bucky didn’t need to tell by the sound of his voice because he was looking out of his window over the way and watching Bucky talk to him on the phone.

“Because I’m going into a rut, and you’re going into heat, Jesus, Steve.” He said, blacking out the last window and his boyfriends sulking face. “You know that!”

“We could help each other out.” Steve said, sounding less pouty and more devious.

Bucky was pretty sure the other man was trying to kill him. He was doing all of the right things. For three whole months he tried his best – dates to nice places that Steve seemed to hate, long walks on the beach that apparently aggravated his allergies, clubs that Steve would find excuses to leave early – to show Steve he was serious. That Bucky wasn’t just some asshole Alpha desperate to catch an Omega. He bought flowers and cooked meals and didn’t do anything more than a peck on the cheek when he’d drop Steve off at the door. Trying to be the best possible version of himself for Steve. To show Steve he was serious, that this was something Bucky valued, that he valued Steve.

And then the little shit waited until Bucky had been pre-rut and pulled the whole “We could work through it **_together_**.” Speech.

Bucky felt like slamming his head into the wall. Of course he wanted Steve to come over. Every single fibre in his hormone doused body wanted that. But how could he agree when Steve would think it was just because of the rut?

“I’ve gotta go, Steve.” He said. “I’ll talk to you in a few days.”

* * *

 

They were sitting together on the couch a week and a half later when Steve kissed him. Like, really kissed him. Like grabbed him by the shirt and laid one on him.

Bucky wasn’t quite sure what to do until Steve let out an exasperated sigh. “Buck, you’re the most hopeless Jerk on the planet.” He said, sitting back down and looking at the TV. “I don’t know how much clearer I can make it.”

* * *

 

Three days later, Steve was back, sitting on Buckys couch watching Buckys TV when Bucky figured that the old ‘arm along the back of the couch’ thing was totally a good play. He managed to get as far as the whole ‘over exaggerated stretch’ before Steve shot him a look.

“Are you really going to try that?” He asked, sounding highly amused. “I’ve been trying to crawl into bed with you for four whole months and you think we’re at the ‘ooops it looks like I’ve accidently put my arm on your shoulder’ trick?”

Bucky deflated. He knew he was gonna fuck it up. “Yeah.”

“Bucky, you know I like you.” Steve pointed out. “I pretty much live here, except when you make me go home at the end of the day. I don’t understand why you’re still trying this whole first base bullshit when I’ve made it plenty clear you’ve got a home run in the bag.”

“I want to show you that I like you.” Bucky said, feeling like a total loser.

“I know you like me, you jerk!” Steve laughed. “I like you too! That’s why I’m here. Now stop acting like a heroine in a crappy harlequin novel and kiss me.”

So he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so it's an ABO and I've never done one!  
> I like the whole social aspect (although I do love the smutty sides too!) of this world.  
> So... trying new things!


End file.
